


Scout's Honour

by OfficialStarsandGutters



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialStarsandGutters/pseuds/OfficialStarsandGutters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Earrrrrl Harrrrlan.” He half sighs the words, and Earl's breathing is heavier now. Cecil can taste it. It tastes like alcohol and spearmint. He smiles and touches his fingers lightly to Earl's wrist, lets his touch linger. He can feel the skip of Earl's pulse beneath his fingertips. “Has anyone ever told you that you are positively adorable?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scout's Honour

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know how this happened. I'm not even big into this ship. I was just listening to The Vamps - Can We Dance, and then, and then, this.
> 
> I can never decide if I want super pale ginger Earl, or tanned dark haired Earl (both come with freckles). Decided to go with the former for this for all the delicious blushing.

 

Cecil knows him, kind of. Earl Harlan. The quiet boy who sits at the back of class and wears his cute scout outfit too often. He's never taken particular notice of him before. He doesn't know what it is now. Perhaps he's just sick of overhearing Steve ranting on about something or other. Maybe he's had a little too much to drink. Mostly he thinks it's the way the saliva glitters on Earl's lower lip when his nervous tongue darts out to wet them.

He could have picked worse. Earl Harlan is attractive, in his own way. With his ginger hair and his blue eyes, brighter than the swirling specks of blue in the void. The freckles sprinkled across his nose are terribly adorable, Cecil thinks, and he wonders where else there are freckles. Wonders what it would be like to trace them with his tongue. There's one freckle resting half on, half off Earl's upper lip, and Cecil wants to take it between his own and press the tip of his tongue to that point.

He looks startled when he sees Cecil approach the little corner he has been tucked away in. Hiding? Possibly. He doesn't look comfortable, set aside from the life of the party. Cecil was sure he'd seen him in a group earlier, and yet here he is, alone and easy to approach, easy to trap in his corner. Nowhere to run. Cecil smiles, all charm and teeth, and Earl's eyes are wide and bright, with dark circles of blue around the edges of each iris. He licks his lips again, moves the bottle he's holding back and forth between his hands. Nervous. Adorable.

“Hi,” says Cecil, and the word is stretched out more than necessary, is verging on a purr. Earl swallows, lower lip caught between his teeth, and Cecil thinks it should be caught between his instead.

“Hello. Ce-shul.”

Cecil giggles at the slur in Earl's voice. Earl joins in, and his skin is glowing pink. Cecil doesn't know if it's from the alcohol, the heat of the party, or if he is to blame for the delicious flush crawling its way across Earl's freckled face. He hopes it's the last. He'd like to take credit for that. Earl raises the bottle to his lips. Cecil lets him take a mouthful before stealing the bottle away with nimble fingers. He downs the rest of it and drops the empty bottle aside, crowding further into Earl's space.

“Earrrrrl Harrrrlan.” He half sighs the words, and Earl's breathing is heavier now. Cecil can taste it. It tastes like alcohol and spearmint. He smiles and touches his fingers lightly to Earl's wrist, lets his touch linger. He can feel the skip of Earl's pulse beneath his fingertips. “Has anyone ever told you that you are positively adorable?”

Cecil can hear that his own words have that high quality that all drunk speech seems to have, where every word raises at the end and everything becomes a question. He thinks he's probably not that drunk. He would be wrong, but he could care less right now. At the moment, his only concern is sweet talking Earl into letting Cecil stick his hand down his pants.

Earl giggles and the blush on his skin darkens. Cecil's stomach twists with delighted pleasure at this accomplishment. He takes this cue as encouragement and places one hand on the wall behind Earl's head, effectively caging him in with his body. Earl leans his head back against the wall and looks up at Cecil. He smiles, slow and lazy. His pupils are blown and his eyes are hazy. He looks delicious and Cecil has to suppress a shiver of anticipation.

“That's a mighty compliment coming from a hottie like you,” Earl tells him, the tips of his ears turning red. He looks vaguely surprised that those words made it out of his mouth.

“You think I'm a hottie?” Cecil grins, walking the fingers of his other hand up along Earl's chest. Earl is still beneath him, his own hands at his side, as if he's not entirely sure what to do with them. His eyes never leave Cecil's face.

“I know you are.”

“Want to know what I know?” Cecil waits for Earl's eager nod. “I know that I really want to kiss you right now.”

There is a moment where Earl is left completely awestruck, and Cecil's grin only widens. Earl is making this so easy. Then there are hands on Cecil's hips, fingers slipping boldly beneath the hem of his t-shirt, and he is both surprised and impressed by the sudden confidence of this move.

“Maybe you should, then.”

So he does. He ducks down his head and closes the distance between them. It all seems quite smooth and flawless to Cecil, but in reality it is sloppy and clumsy, as drunken kisses are wont to be. Earl is too busy melting beneath the slide of Cecil's lips to notice, because hello, yes, Cecil Palmer is kissing him. The same Cecil Palmer who Earl watches in class and fantasises about and has only had a teeny tiny _enormous_ crush on for for _ever_. Then Cecil's tongue is parting his lips, forceful and enthusiastic, and Earl moans against his mouth, hands squeezing into Cecil's hips.

Cecil hadn't expected Earl to be quite so into this so quickly, and while half the fun is in coaxing and seducing, this does make everything a lot faster. He presses Earl back against the wall and Earl goes easily, lips parting obediently at Cecil's prompting. He slides the hand on Earl's chest up over his throat and into his hair. Earl's tongue slides against his own and Cecil's hips jerk forward instinctively, slide against Earl's clumsily, creating delicious friction.

“Fuck.” Earl pants the word into the space between them and Cecil thinks it sums up his current feeling precisely. His mouth trails kisses down over Earl's jaw and then he is attacking his throat with tongue and teeth, and the pale skin reddens and bruises so easily beneath his lips. Earl's head falls back against the wall and his fingers twist into Cecil's hair, push and tug as if unsure if he wants him closer or to stop.

“Fuck,” he says again. “Cecil.”

Earl is not particularly trying to be seductive. His voice is breathy and high, and it's more a gasp of Cecil's name than anything else, but it still sounds filthy and Cecil growls in response. He presses Earl closer to the wall, pins him in place with his own body and kisses him again. Harder this time. He nips at Earl's lip and slides his hands beneath his shirt, palms gliding up over Earl's ribcage. His fingers just barely brush Earl's nipples and the other boy is writhing beneath his touch, trapped between Cecil and the wall.

“Cecil!”

He is squirming and it is causing his body to rub against Cecil's in the best way.

“Cecil, people can see!”

“Is that a suggestion we go somewhere a little more private? Oh, Earl, how very forward of you.”

Earl's mind is fuzzy around the edges and it is difficult to think of anything beyond the feel of Cecil's fingers against his chest. He's quite sure he didn't suggest any such thing, but he can't be entirely certain. The air moving in and out of his lungs feels too thick and hot. It is so hard to think, to focus, to do anything else other than experience this gorgeous boy with his hands up his shirt.

Fuck it, Earl thinks. He never does anything daring.

“Yes.” His hands are on Cecil's arms, fingers curling around his biceps. “Yes.”

It is all he can say. A litany of agreement, because for all Earl knows, this could be some kind of alcohol induced hallucination, but he is not going to miss out on this opportunity. He is not going to miss out on Cecil. He can feel Cecil's smile against the column of his throat. One more nip of sharp teeth that has Earl gasping, and then Cecil's hands are at his hips, are turning him and pushing him towards the door. He allows Cecil to guide him. He allows Cecil, for now, at least, to own him.

They trip on the stairs. Cecil is too preoccupied with licking his way into Earl's mouth and Earl hasn't got eyes on the back of his head (yet), so attempting to move upstairs backwards is clumsy and awkward. The edge of the stairs bite against his spine, but Cecil tumbles on top of him, solid warmth, and their bodies are pressed together, and he can feel every inch of contact. That makes up for the discomfort. Cecil indulges in another sloppy kiss before his hands fist in Earl's t-shirt and he half drags him up the rest of the stairs.

Cecil moves down the hall, one arm around Earl's waist as Earl attacks the side of his throat, marking him in return. He hisses absently through his teeth as he peeks in through the first door. Bathroom. He tries the second. This looks like Steve's room, and Cecil gets a jolt of sick pleasure at the thought of using his room for this. He pushes Earl in and shuts the door, taking the time to lock it. Then he turns, eyes hungry. Earl is standing in the center of the room, looking at him expectantly, and also looking a little loss. There are already dark bruises blossoming on his pale skin. Cecil wants to add to them, wants to trail bruises down to where no one else will see, but Cecil will know they are there.

They move towards each other at the same time. Earl's arms go around Cecil's neck and Cecil's hands go to his waist, pushing and guiding until the back of Earl's legs hit the edge of the bed. They tumble onto it in a mess of awkward tangled limbs, heads bumping together painfully, and Earl is giggling against Cecil's mouth. It's a sweet sound, and he muffles it with his lips, hands sliding under Earl's shirt without hesitation. He's murmuring words, unnecessary nonsense. He already has Earl here. He doesn't need to convince him. But he is drunk enough that it almost feels like love (it is not, he knows, but it is fun to pretend), and Cecil is not above playing along.

“I've always wanted to fuck a scout, you know. Those little costumes. Drives me wild. Especially the shorts. You always look delicious in those shorts.” He licks along the shell of Earl's ear and drags his nails down over his chest. Earl gasps and arches against him, and it is beautiful. “Then again, I'm sure you look even better out of uniform.”

Then he's tugging Earl's shirt up and over his head. They are both too eager in their movements and Earl ends up trapped in the material, but Cecil soon frees him and tosses it aside. He mouths at Earl's shoulder and Earl's fingers tangle in his hair, grip verging on painful. Cecil doesn't mind. There's a splattering of freckles across Earl's shoulders and Cecil joins them with his tongue before moving down to lap at the hollow of Earl's collarbone. He closes his teeth around the bone and sucks hard. Beneath him Earl is producing the best noises, all low moans and high whimpers that send hot waves of pleasure right through Cecil.

He peels his own shirt off because Earl is little more than a melted puddle of ginger right now, his skin flushed right down to his chest and his eyes dark and hooded. He is still in disbelief that he is here, beneath Cecil, and that this is happening. It's not exactly the way he'd imagined his first proper sexual experience, but it's Cecil, and that is enough for Earl not to care. That's enough.

He rakes his nails down Cecil's back when the other boy ducks down to mouth at his shoulders again, intent on leaving as many bruises as he can. Then Cecil's hand is down his pants and it is difficult to be aware of anything else. Cecil's hand is warm and firm and feels so, _so_ much better than his own. Earl is aware that the noises he is making are pathetic and desperate, but it is so hard to care when Cecil is stroking him quick and rough, but so good, and he should probably do something in return, but he can barely remember how to breathe let along how to work his arms.

Cecil moves away and Earl whines at the loss. Before he can complain or reach out, Cecil is gone, sliding down between his legs and, oh, _oh._ Cecil grins up at Earl, charming and unbearably sexy as he drags his shorts down. Earl groans and lets his head fall back, unable to hold Cecil's gaze. Cecil chuckles to himself, rubbing his hands up and down the inside of Earl's thighs. He nuzzles against the pale flesh, trailing his tongue in a hot line before biting down. He holds Earl in place by his hips and sucks bruises into his thighs, ignoring the soft whines of _pleasurepain_. He bites a line up Earl's thigh before sucking a bruise into his hip, and then he's taking him into his mouth, sloppy and a bit too wet, but definitely enthusiastic. Earl's not complaining, anyway.

It doesn't take long for him to come apart beneath Cecil. It's all so intense and it's all so much, and within a matter of minutes he's arching up into Cecil's mouth, fists clenched in the sheets and jaw slack. Cecil swallows easily, licks his lips and crawls up over the length of Earl's body to kiss him hard. Earl's response is not quite as heated, and his lips part lazily beneath Cecil's. His chest is rising and falling with each panting breath. Cecil lays his hand in the center of it and feels Earl's frantic heartbeat beneath his palm. He gives him a few moments to recover, sucking at his ear lobe and drawing soft mewling sounds from his parted lips.

“Fancy returning the favour?” He murmurs, breath warm against Earl's ear. His voice is hoarse and it makes Earl's stomach twist. He is at a loss for words, but he nods enthusiastically, scrambling up onto his knees.

Cecil chuckles, reaching out to stroke Earl's hair. He pushes back the sweaty strands that are stuck to his forehead and strokes Earl's cheek, cupping his jaw and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. When they break away, Cecil lies back on the bed, propped up on his elbows. He watches Earl with heavily lidded eyes, pupils blown, as he moves to settled between his legs. Earl is hesitant and unsure, but trying to disguise it, and for Cecil that only makes it better. He loves the idea that he is the first Earl has done this for. He loves the idea of debauching him.

Earl fumbles his buttons open, and the fact he is both drunk and nervous makes this harder than it usually would be. He swallows thickly, glancing up through his eyelashes at Cecil as he finally manages to get his pants open. Cecil lifts his hips automatically to let Earl strip away the clothing. He kicks the unwanted articles away once Earl gets them to his ankles, and spreads his legs without shame. Earl stops to admire Cecil's body, bare and spread out against the sheets. It is real. It is real and he is here, is seeing this, and it is almost too much. Cecil raises an eyebrow.

“Are you going to stare all night or are you going to do something about this?” He wriggles his hips to indicate what he is talking about, and Earl's eyes are drawn down to his arousal. He rubs the sweat from his palms on the bed sheets and lowers his head.

Cecil hisses at the first tentative stroke of tongue. Experimental. The second is firmer, and his hand automatically moves to the back of Earl's head, grips in his hair. Earl makes a soft noise that might be encouragement or pain, but Cecil doesn't really care, doesn't care for anything beyond the wet warmth of Earl's mouth. He tries to be patient, tries to give him a chance to get his bearings, but it's difficult and it's not long before he is holding Earl's head in place as he rolls his hips up. Earl is gagging and swallowing around him, pushing Cecil's hips down against the mattress. Cecil lets him come up for air and he gasps it in, eyes red rimmed and watery.

Earl goes down again of his own accord, determined to please Cecil. It's adorable, really, Cecil thinks, just how eager to please he is. Delectable. He strokes his hair this time. Soft, gentle. Silent praise. Earl nuzzles up against his hand and then swallows him down and, wow, what a fast learner his little scout is. Cecil's head falls back against the pillow and he thinks of how meaningless existence is and how nice it is their fleeting little lives are blessed with the pleasure of orgasms.

Earl sits up when he is done, looking dazed. His hair is a mess from where Cecil was gripping it, sticking up in every which direction. Cecil smiles, wipes a smear from the corner of Earl's mouth with his thumb and licks it clean. Earl watches him as if he contains every secret of the universe. Cecil laughs and pulls him close, kisses him lazy and messy. They fall back onto the bed, curled together in a mess of sweaty limbs and heavy breathing.

“Wow,” says Earl, and Cecil laughs, low and breathless.

“Yeah. Wow.”

He runs his fingers up Earl's spine, trails them across the freckles of his shoulders and kisses his forehead. Earl sighs, soft and content, and presses his face into the curve of Cecil's neck. The sweat is cooling on their skin and through the window the void is shifting from purple to blue.

Eventually Cecil stretches his body out, giving a little moan of satisfaction, before rolling off the bed. Earl sits up, watching as Cecil quickly pulls his clothes on. He turns when he's done, leaning forward to claim Earl's mouth in one final, filthy kiss.

“It's been fun, kid. I'll see you in school.”

And with that he is gone, leaving Earl cold and naked and alone, wondering what he did wrong.


End file.
